Threads
by EmpatheticVoice
Summary: The threads of fate can be pulled, knotted together, and cut. Set during the "Six Thatchers." a brief look at certain aspects in the lives of the characters leading up to, and after Mary's death. Not beta read.
1. Molly

**A/N: Set during the "Six Thatchers" May contain spoilers. Please forgive any punctuation and grammatical mistakes.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.**

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After Sherlock's 4-minute exile and the cover-up that followed, Molly could tell something had changed. Sure, he took cases, and was overall annoying git at times but It seemed as though, his emotions were slowly bleeding through. He was more sensitive, and covered it being more acerbic. He was more fearful and nervous, which he compensated with constant attention and handling with his phone. Though he acted as if nothing significance had happened, Molly could tell that something had changed.

He looks at her now, and I don't just mean in a deductive manner. More than once their eyes meet and it seems as if he is speaking to her in volumes. Deep secret things that his mouth could never find courage to say. Molly knows better than to draw attention to it, otherwise he would withdraw further into himself, whatever opening that was created, would be plastered closed by a sarcastic, hurtful comment.

It had been two weeks after his return. Sherlock dove back into his life with full force. He tore through case after case with gusto. He and John running around in their usual madcap adventures. But somehow, Molly had a feeling that something was off. She tugged on the sleeve of his Belstaff, just as he was leaving the lab one day, having just confirmed the identity of the culprit in a case for Lestrade.

"Are you ok?" She asked him lowly, hopefully out of John's earshot.

Sherlock seemed surprised for a second at the question. He then masked himself in a condescending smirk.

"You should know better than to ask such banal questions Molly." He said as he walked away.

The pathologist noticed he didn't answer her.


	2. Mycroft

He showed him a picture of a baby on his phone.

Rosamund Mary Watson.

Mycroft thinks it to show off his ability to connect with "regular" people and make him jealous. He makes a comment that she appears to have all the requisite fingers and toes. Mycroft knows the joke goes over Sherlock's head when he challenges him to make up a better compliment. He doesn't oblige him, claiming that he doesn't do "human."

It is just a confirmation that he is the "smart" one. He and Sherlock have an almost preternatural sense to see and interpret data. They have the ability to filter and sort information into theads, and from there make educated guesses on outcomes based on the information given, like following the strings of fate. Mycroft is more able to do this, which gives him a near uncanny ability to be prepared for anything, a quality much desired within the British Government. Sherlock seemed more interested in where people had been and their ends, rather than the potential of what they could do, thus his interest in cases. Both required an expanded understanding of the balance of probability, when you got down to it, seemed it was more logic and mathematical than esoteric with one brother focused on the past, while the other concerned himself with the future.

It was one of the reasons Mycroft disliked sentiment. Sentiment caused people to act irrationally, do things that were illogical and normally not in their nature. It was a corruptive element that brought chaos to the natural and calculable order. The elder Holmes attempted to convey to his younger brother that sentiment was a chemical defect, the feeling was an enemy to order and control. Sherlock did adopt the philosophy mostly, but still naively struggled in wanting to understand it and embrace it on some level.

He warned Sherlock against caring too much. In the case of Mary Watson, considering her past, Mycroft forsaw that it was unlikely she would come out unscathed. Sherlock took it as a challenge, rather than an eventuality. He always hated the story of "The Appointment in Samarra," preferring to change the merchant's outcome of death to living a life of freedom as he chooses. We are all merely small functions within the grand equation. That is as close to religion as either Holmes will admit to believing. In terms of the story, the efforts the merchant takes in attempting to escape death only brings him closer to it, leading him to his fateful conclusion. All lives will end, no matter where or when. It is an eventuality. Mary's past, and those who have lived similarly, have had a very short shelf life. Sherlock has yet to understand the balance of this and the futility of going against it. His involvement in Mary's Samarran journey will only bring her end all the more dangerously closer and quicker. All lives end, all hearts are broken. By caring, Mycroft's little brother would bring a lot of self-inflicted pain, which in turn would cause a disruption in his ability to see and interpret his threads.


	3. John

It felt…good….

Having a pretty woman smile at you.

Though it seemed, that the woman was laughing at him than with him, John rationalized. He did have a plastic flower stuck behind his ear. As much as he loved his life, running around after Rosie and Sherlock, John felt tired, and though he would never admit it aloud, a bit bored. He and Mary had their hands full dealing with the both of them. Sherlock through the day, and Rosie at night. He could swear they both had teamed up in conducting a sleep deprivation experiment aiming to see which parent would go mad first. He loved them both though. Things had settled into a routine, being a father does that to you. It forces you to be reliable, dependable, responsible for something greater than yourself. But why does it seem that the world turned a bit grey?

Locking eyes with a pretty girl, reminded him of being something he once was. Not just a husband and a father, but still "Three-continents" Watson. He was more than just the guy who dealt with diapers and baby vomit, and babysat hyperactive detectives. He was still attractive to women, even with his "tired" eyes. It was really gratifying to the ego.

He really should have thrown away her number. But something stopped him from tossing it into the bin. He didn't want to let go of that feeling just yet. So, he held onto that slip and kept it. Just as reminder to himself. Maybe he would brag about it to Mary later.

Despite the birth of Rosie, things have still been difficult with Mary at times. After all, their relationship and marriage had been based on a lie. Though John said that the problems of her future were his pleasure, he had no assurances on what sort of problems could possibly arise. However, he was a romantic and believed that together they could weather any storm.

It was a surprise then, when Sherlock invited Mary to actively help them on their case on the Thatcher busts. He jokingly claimed that she was better at this than he was, which did sting a bit. She and Sherlock had developed their own camaraderie. It was something that John was happy to encourage, but somehow he felt a bit left out. They both were so intelligent, though she was never as smart as Sherlock, but had the ability to pick up things far quicker than he had.

It led John to needing another ego boost. Hence, John added that girl's number to his phone. There was no harm in just talking right? If things went too far, he would simply tell "E" the truth, that he was married and couldn't reciprocate her feelings. It was nice to have some normal, flirty, uncomplicated conversation.

But deep down on some level, Watson knew it was wrong. He always carried their conversations when Mary was out of the room. Always left his phone face down, so she accidently wouldn't see them. It was easier that way, he wouldn't have to answer questions or justify himself. He wasn't ready to let go this bit of fantasy, and face the stark reality.

Reality would soon rear its ugly head. Given the nature of Mary's past, he suggested that Sherlock place a tracker in the A.G.R.A thumb drive before showing it to Mary. As the details of her past kept emerging, John could sense that Mary was about to do a runner. She left him behind with their daughter.

He was so angry! They were supposed to deal with this situation together! That's what couples do! On some level; he could understand her reluctance though. He had separated himself from her when she was pregnant and he found out about her hidden assassin past after she had shot Sherlock. She felt like she had to do this alone. She had him too, dammit! They were too alike, him and Mary. They both loved adrenaline, they both held each other on too high standards.

He thought about "E" on the plane ride back from Morocco. It was then, he realized how emotionally dependent he had become on her. If she had ever asked John out for coffee or a meal, never in his whole life would he admit aloud that he wanted to say yes. This had to end. It was wrong to lead her on, thinking that there could be the possibility of something more. He could never become this woman's romantic interest. The fact he felt tempted, made his guilt weigh heavy on him. He needed to confess it all to Mary. It would be the proof that he was not the man she thought he was, just as she was not the woman he thought she was.

John would never get the chance though. Texts from Sherlock indicated their presence would be needed for the last act in their case. He allowed Mary to leave first, as this was going to be the closure of her past. He didn't know that this would be the final confrontation that would cost Mary her life. If it weren't for the traffic, he might have saved her. He could have stopped Sherlock in time from riling up Vivian Norbury to shoot, or taken the bullet for himself. God, he wished he did.

Despite all his indiscretions, John knew what he had and how much he had lost. Mary was so much of him, all he could only let out were inhuman screams as if a part of him was ripped away. He had lost nearly everything, his partner, his wife, the person who brought light into his life in his darkest moments.

He truly had everything he needed.

How dare he think that he wanted something more.


End file.
